Seven Years to Sin(95)
Jess looked across the veranda table at Alistair’s mother. “Yes, she is healthy and strong. And every day, she remembers a little more about laughter and finding joy.”
Just beyond the carved stone balusters that divided the veranda from the immaculate Masterson gardens, many of the dozen guests attending Jess’s house party strolled through the neatly trimmed yew hedges. Even Masterson was out enjoying the beautiful day, holding hands with the infant Master Albert who was toddling along the gravel paths.
“Lord Tarley seems quite taken with her,” Louisa noted.
Jess’s gaze moved back to Hester and Michael, following as they walked together; Hester with her parasol, and Michael with his hands clasped behind his back. They made a lovely couple, his dark comeliness so beautifully complementing her sister’s golden beauty.
“He’s been a dear friend for a long time,” Jess said. “But these last two years have proven him to be invaluable in so many ways. He’s made her feel safe, and from that position of safety, Hester has found the peace of mind to heal. Much as your son did for me.”
“It is no less than what you have done for him.” The duchess lifted her teacup to her lips, her porcelain skin shielded beneath the brim of her wide straw hat. “Where is my son, by the way?”
“He’s looking into an irrigation problem of some sort.”
“I hope he knows that Masterson is impressed with him.”
There was no way for Alistair to know since the two men rarely spoke, but such unfortunate rifts were topics best left for another day. “There isn’t anything he fails to excel in. Truly, I find it remarkable that such a romantic and creative soul should also be so well versed in numbers, engineering, and countless other analytical pursuits.”
There was also his physical prowess, but that was for Jess alone to know and enjoy.
“Milady.”
Her attention moved to the maid who approached with a missive in hand. Jess smiled and accepted it, immediately recognizing her husband’s penmanship on the exterior. She broke the seal with a smile.
Find me.
“If you will please excuse me, Your Grace,” she said, pushing back from the table and standing.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Always.” Jess moved through the open French doors into the house. The interior was quiet and peaceful, the large sprawling estate somehow retaining a feeling of intimacy and welcome. She and Alistair occupied one wing of the manse during the summer months, while the duke and duchess occupied the other most of the year. This was their second year summering with his family and, so far, it was progressing better than the first. Alistair’s naming of Albert’s son as his heir had been a great relief to all.
Jess had used the excuse of requiring assistance with a house party to bring Hester closer to rejoining Society with the start of the next Season. The past two years had been difficult, with the scandal surrounding Regmont’s death and all the speculation that sprang from it. Jess’s marriage to Alistair Caulfield, a future duke, had helped to divert attention, but nothing could hasten the healing process for Hester. Still, her sister’s recovery was progressing slowly but surely, with Michael always nearby if she needed him, a solid and unobtrusive friend. Perhaps he would become something more to her one day, when Hester was ready. Alistair believed his friend would wait patiently, just as Alistair had done for Jess.
Heading to Alistair’s study first, she found the space empty. She moved to the parlor, then the billiards room, but still didn’t find him. It was only when she began ascending the right side of the split staircase that she heard the faint strains of a violin. Her heart swelled with joy. Listening to Alistair play was one of her favorite pastimes. Sometimes, after they’d made love, he would rise from their bed and engage the stringed instrument. She would lie there and listen, hearing in the notes all the emotion he couldn’t convey with words. It was the same with his drawings. The finely wrought pencil lines captured moments and expressions only a lover would grasp and treasure. They told her more eloquently than speech how precious she was to him, how often he thought of her, and how deeply he felt about her.
Jess followed the haunting strains of a plaintive melody to their rooms. Two of the upstairs maids lingered in the hall, as awed as Jess, until they saw her approach and scrambled away. She opened the sitting room door, then shut and locked it behind her. Contentment swept over her along with the increased volume of music. She located her spouse in their bedroom, standing before the open window, his clothing removed except for his buff-colored trousers. Acheron lay at his feet, staring raptly up at him, as entranced as everyone became when he played.
As Alistair slid the bow to and fro across the strings, the muscles of his arms and back flexed and clenched with the fluid movements, creating a view she would never tire of. She sat on the bench at the foot of the bed, watching and listening, her blood already beginning to heat and thicken with anticipation.
It was the middle of the day. Numerous guests surrounded and awaited them. Yet he’d lured her to their bedroom to seduce her with the refinement of his talent and the primitive lust of his virility—appealing to the disparate needs she hadn’t been aware of until he’d shown them to her.
The music faded into the warm summer breeze, and she applauded softly. He placed the instrument carefully within its case.